05-29-2024, 05:55 PM
==Arrest Timeline==
==Security Office, about an hour after previous post==
Benjamin watched the investigator walk out, heading back towards his office presumably. Part of him was surprised that the investigator was actually from the JAG office, but considering what they were charging him with – what he had confessed to before he even got here – he probably shouldn’t have been..
The questions were simple and to the point: did you steal a cloaking device from a Klingon ship? Yes, sir, from a bunch of lowlife sentient-trafficking scum, sir. Where and when did this happen? At Pomn, sir, a few years ago. Did anyone help you steal the device and store it? No, sir; those actions were my own and I did everything in my power to make sure no one else knew. Why did you use it? The mission was classified, sir; I can’t answer that until you’re read in.
That last bit had been what really bothered the man, but it was a hard line Benjamin refused to cross. Not that it likely mattered. He was sure that clearance would be given, but it was like his dad always told him: if you’re stuck in a hole, stop digging.
If only I’d listened to that advice earlier, he thought. What the hell had he been thinking, sending in a confession like that? He paced back and forth in the tiny cell, a path he knew numerous others had walked before and would after he was… wherever he wound up at. No matter what else happens, he reminded himself, that won’t be Artemis anymore.
There was simply no way he would be allowed back on his ship. His home, with his friends. Probably just as well. He wasn’t sure what he’d say to them now. They had managed to not only recover Callisto somehow, but also cover up the existence of the cloaking device, much less its use. No one would have ever known, and everything would have been fine.
But no, he had to go and tell them anyway. Sure, it was because he’d wanted to make sure the blame got laid at his feet and no one else’s. And he’d successfully done just that, at least for now.
And it wasn’t like he could simply chalk it up to one bad decision. It was simply another in a chain of them. His reaction to Cera and Dayune, his failure to actually deal with that like a rational person instead of a petulant child. Flying off back home and coming back without a word. Or going back further, not getting rid of the damn cloaking device when he had chance after chance to, or even he could’ve left it on that damn bird of prey to get incinerated by that star they flew it into.
He'd spent years trying his best to be better, to do better, so that he wouldn’t… wind up exactly where he was. And even if he was here because of good reasons, he knew what road those reasons paved.
He sank down to the bench with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He’d been told that his representative would be in to see him soon, but as soon as the door opened he knew that this wasn’t them.
Tyra Crawford came blazing across the holding chamber, stopping what seemed like inches from the forcefield. "What the Hell were you thinking? Are you that big of a ****** idiot? I thought you were the smarter one but even Nathan wouldn't have done something this catastrophically idiotic."
Benjamin stopped for a moment, his own recriminations fed by her rage as he sank further into that despair. “I guess you were wrong,” he said. “We both were.
“I’d wanted to get out in front of it, because no matter what happened to us on that mission I knew that someone was going to try and take us down over that damned cloak.” His voice was shaky and soft, as if he couldn’t make it any louder. “And when that happened, I had wanted it to be me, not you or anyone else in the crew. I’m the one who committed the crime and had the device, I couldn’t let them paint you with that same brush.”
Even to his own ears, it sounded stupid, hubristic. Who was he to decide where the blame should go? Why did he think that Tyra needed his protection, when she was the captain? But that was precisely what he’d done.
And now, it had blown up in his face.
“I never imagined,” he continued, “that we’d survive to be here, much less that we’d manage to get back without the cloak’s help. I…” He stopped, hands spread. He wanted to apologize, but how could he? What could he say? Instead, his head dropped again, lapsed to silence.
==Tag!==
==Security Office, about an hour after previous post==
Benjamin watched the investigator walk out, heading back towards his office presumably. Part of him was surprised that the investigator was actually from the JAG office, but considering what they were charging him with – what he had confessed to before he even got here – he probably shouldn’t have been..
The questions were simple and to the point: did you steal a cloaking device from a Klingon ship? Yes, sir, from a bunch of lowlife sentient-trafficking scum, sir. Where and when did this happen? At Pomn, sir, a few years ago. Did anyone help you steal the device and store it? No, sir; those actions were my own and I did everything in my power to make sure no one else knew. Why did you use it? The mission was classified, sir; I can’t answer that until you’re read in.
That last bit had been what really bothered the man, but it was a hard line Benjamin refused to cross. Not that it likely mattered. He was sure that clearance would be given, but it was like his dad always told him: if you’re stuck in a hole, stop digging.
If only I’d listened to that advice earlier, he thought. What the hell had he been thinking, sending in a confession like that? He paced back and forth in the tiny cell, a path he knew numerous others had walked before and would after he was… wherever he wound up at. No matter what else happens, he reminded himself, that won’t be Artemis anymore.
There was simply no way he would be allowed back on his ship. His home, with his friends. Probably just as well. He wasn’t sure what he’d say to them now. They had managed to not only recover Callisto somehow, but also cover up the existence of the cloaking device, much less its use. No one would have ever known, and everything would have been fine.
But no, he had to go and tell them anyway. Sure, it was because he’d wanted to make sure the blame got laid at his feet and no one else’s. And he’d successfully done just that, at least for now.
And it wasn’t like he could simply chalk it up to one bad decision. It was simply another in a chain of them. His reaction to Cera and Dayune, his failure to actually deal with that like a rational person instead of a petulant child. Flying off back home and coming back without a word. Or going back further, not getting rid of the damn cloaking device when he had chance after chance to, or even he could’ve left it on that damn bird of prey to get incinerated by that star they flew it into.
He'd spent years trying his best to be better, to do better, so that he wouldn’t… wind up exactly where he was. And even if he was here because of good reasons, he knew what road those reasons paved.
He sank down to the bench with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He’d been told that his representative would be in to see him soon, but as soon as the door opened he knew that this wasn’t them.
Tyra Crawford came blazing across the holding chamber, stopping what seemed like inches from the forcefield. "What the Hell were you thinking? Are you that big of a ****** idiot? I thought you were the smarter one but even Nathan wouldn't have done something this catastrophically idiotic."
Benjamin stopped for a moment, his own recriminations fed by her rage as he sank further into that despair. “I guess you were wrong,” he said. “We both were.
“I’d wanted to get out in front of it, because no matter what happened to us on that mission I knew that someone was going to try and take us down over that damned cloak.” His voice was shaky and soft, as if he couldn’t make it any louder. “And when that happened, I had wanted it to be me, not you or anyone else in the crew. I’m the one who committed the crime and had the device, I couldn’t let them paint you with that same brush.”
Even to his own ears, it sounded stupid, hubristic. Who was he to decide where the blame should go? Why did he think that Tyra needed his protection, when she was the captain? But that was precisely what he’d done.
And now, it had blown up in his face.
“I never imagined,” he continued, “that we’d survive to be here, much less that we’d manage to get back without the cloak’s help. I…” He stopped, hands spread. He wanted to apologize, but how could he? What could he say? Instead, his head dropped again, lapsed to silence.
==Tag!==